* * * *
Gabriel loved science.
It had a certain grace that magic lacked.
A certain finesse.
What made it so romantic in his mind was that there was so much untapped potential. So much of it still unexplored. When he first came to the human world he’d devoured everything he could find concerning the subject. The results had been fascinating.
Science didn’t explain what he and the other Hounds could do, but it gave him a better understanding of his gifts. The others thought he was ignoring his magic, but that was the complete opposite. He was just giving it a name.
He knew, even as he allowed the atoms holding him together to split apart, that what he was trying might not work. But if he didn’t try something, then the Specter would wipe Phaedra away, assuming that it hadn’t done so already.
Letting himself fade was easy. Some said that it was like exploding, like dying, like being reborn again. He’d heard all of the comparisons, but for Gabriel there was only one way to describe it.
For him, using his gift was like breathing.
One second he is solid.
He is real.
The next he is nothing,
But,
The world is a collection of thought, a kaleidoscope of flashing color where before there was only darkness. Even as a wolf he cannot see with such clarity. Cannot see a person’s breath escaping on the air like a moth or their skin like thousands of tiny particles, each with its own special brand of energy and life.
These particles are what he grabs a hold of. What he slips in between and pulls apart. They struggle at first, screaming and reluctant to be separated from one another. But they give up the fight soon enough. Her skin is the first to fall away, an old dress being discarded. He moves through everything else quickly. Internal organs, veins, ligaments, bones, blood cells. Inch by inch he breaks her down and sends her floating into the ether.
He grabs for her soul last.
The Specter is wrapped tight around her, black tar swallowing a dying bird. He can hear the tiny sounds of panic she makes, or fear, as the Specter continues to grow stronger. It makes it easier to pull them away from one another. The Specter is buried so deep within her that he has to shred her just to erase the last trace of the creature.
Then he leads her, broken and sobbing, after him into the light.
When they are safe, he works on pulling the piece of her back together.
He starts from her soul and works his way up. Brick by brick, holding her together with his will alone when she would have fallen apart. His mind stretching for miles in every direction just to bring the parts of her that had wandered too far away back home where they belonged. To him it takes forever to rebuild her, but in actuality, the process only lasts a minute or two. He doesn’t have to work nearly as long or as hard to make himself solid once again. If using his power was like breathing, stepping back into reality was like holding
His.
Breath.
“He is where Angels fear to tread.”
—Phaedra Conners
Chapter Twenty-one